A/N: Hello my wonderful readers! I got inspired to write this a while ago. This is something I want to say to all the Hetalia characters, that they have eternity. I think it sounds romantic XD. So yeah, there's an OC in here, but it's not my OC. Because I dislike OC's. This one was necessary for the story. Please don't kill me. She doesn't get with a character, she just helps with their love. Frankly, I meant for this to be a lot shorter. Oh well. It pretty much wrote itself. The whole time, I was imagining this as a doujinshi strip. XDDD It helps when you're writing to have a picture. Okay, so, enough with the author's note. Please read, enjoy and review. And of course:

SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DOITSU! XD

Rumors say that deep in the woods behind a man named Arthur Krikland's house, is an old abandoned mansion, long forgotten by it's owner, where no one ever goes. Waiting in the house is a beautiful girl, watching for the day her love will return to her. People who venture into the house, beware- she does not take kindly to intruders, or so the rumors say.

...

"YEAH?! WELL... VA TE FAIRE ENCULER PAR UN OURSE!" Arthur turns a bright shade of red, fueled by anger and embarrassment, steam practically billowing from his ears. Yet another world meeting down the drain. Arthur and Alfred were fighting once again, although this time it's different. This time is the first world meeting the two spend together as a couple. None of the countries were very shocked when this was announced, although Francis spent the next crying in his about his 'petite Angleterre va se souillés par ce plouc américain sale!' However, everyone had thought meetings would run more smoothly, now that they were officially dating. Only Matthew and Francis knew how things would be before the meeting. Apparently, the only thing that has come of their relationship so far is more fighting, more vicious fighting, more frequent fights, and they would last until one of them stormed out of the house and to the nearest bar. They would promptly call their drinking buddy, get hopelessly smashed, and cry and complain and drink until they passed out, in which case the so-called drinking buddy, whether it be Matthew or Francis, would call either Alfred or Arthur, although more often than not it was Alfred. He would arrive at the bar, thank the drinking buddy profusely, and then proceed to carry the unconscious nation back to the house, unless it was Alfred who needed carrying. In which case, Arthur would hire a tow-truck. The point is, they would fight. And this was, by far, their worst one. Shock resounds on the faces of the French speakers in the room.

"Alfred." Francis gasps. "Do you have any idea what you just said?!"

"No!" Arthur interrupts. "He doesn't! Of course he doesn't! Am I wrong, Alfred?" No response. "Exactly! Ever since I met you, it's been nothing but a hassle! I would take time out of my busy schedule to come see you. And were you ever grateful? NO. And then you left me! I agreed to this relationship because I thought things would change! I though we could get along better, instead of always arguing, but you insist on being a stupid git!"

"Well sorry I'm not perfect! No one is! It's not fair, you don't understand at all!"

"What don't I understand?! Please, do tell!"

"What's the point you'll disregard it!"

"How do you know if you won't tell me?!"

"Because! You've never understood! Not then and not now! You're right, nothing has changed! You're still the same old cold, heartless, awful England!" Arthur's eyes grow wide.

"We'll you're still the same fat, abandoning, ignorant America!" The two are both red-faced and fuming.

"At least I'm not a cross-dressing, fairy-loving, huge-eyebrows, stupid, FUCKFACE!" Alfred says through gritted teeth. Silence. All the countries are holding their breath. Arthur looks like he might explode and at the same time break down crying. His face is red with rage and his emerald eyes watery.

"I think you should leave." He hisses.

"I agree." Alfred swivels on his feet and storms out of the room, out the door and away from the house. The meeting had been held in England's house this time, since the world meeting center was getting repairs. The last storm had caused water damage to the roof. The large mansion was surrounded by beautiful rose gardens of all different colors and a wonderful aroma seeped from the blooms, a scent Arthur carried almost everywhere he went. Beyond the gardens were tall pine tree woods, a necessity for the occult-loving Brit. Alfred had always loved visiting, the beautiful grounds were awe-inspiring, but today was different. It was overcast today, no sun in sight, the blustery winds shaking the tops of the trees. Alfred, not knowing where else to go, walked into the trees. As he muttered and fumed about the irrational Brit and his own problems, he failed to pay attention to where he was until the first drops of rain hit him. Looking up and holding out his hand, he now saw that rain was beginning to fall.

"Shit! It's raining!" He looks around, swiveling his head. "Wait... Where exactly am I? Ah! I can't go back to the house anyway... Well there's gotta be something out here!" Running around in a storm is not the smartest thing to do, but Alfred didn't really care about being smart. Finally, as he pushes pat yet another low-hanging sharp pine branch, he finds a house. It's a large run down mansion, bigger than England's house. The cream paint is peeling and the old dark brown shingles are rotten and falling down, the shutters are either lying in the ground or barely attached, and the window panes are filled with cracked glass. Cobwebs hang from the rafters and holes cover the walls.

"It's not the safest place, but... It'll be fine! I'm the Hero, duh!" He makes his way up the crumbling walk and onto the steps, knocking on the large door. "Hello?" He calls as the door slowly swings open. "Oh... Guess it was unlocked." He steps into the house. The interior is not quite as bad the exterior. The wallpaper is peeling and cobwebs are everywhere and the house gives off a musty smell, but otherwise it's alright. Alfred takes a few more steps, wandering around the big house and exploring. As he passes by a certain room, he stops and does a double-take. A woman is standing by the window in an otherwise empty room. She's not quite as tall as Alfred, with long, long blond hair falling down her back, and it appears that she's wearing a white dress, although her back is turned to him.

"The clouds..." She whispers. Alfred jumps. Her voice is like the wind, soft and shaky, yet beautiful to hear. "Can you hear them? They are crying. Something very sad has happened." The girl turns to face him and Alfred's heart nearly leaps out of his chest. The girl's eyes are white, not quite the milky white of blindness, more like the color of her eyes is truly white. "Why are you sad?" She asks. Alfred doesn't respond for a long time, trying hard to calm down. This girl… Something's weird about her. She gives me a bad feeling. It takes him a moment to realize she's talking to him.

"Ah, m-me?"

"Well I do not see anyone else here besides you and me, and surely I am not talking to myself." The girl giggles softly.

"I-I'm not sad!" He responds.

"Yes you are. They feel it. The clouds sense it. They are crying for you. Why can you not cry for yourself? What is wrong? Alfred."

"How do you know my name?" The girl smiles softly, lighting up her beautiful face.

"I know all the names."

"What?"

"Will you not tell me?"

"I don't even know you!"

"But I know you. Alfred Jones. America. Yes, the little one. He told me all about you."

"Who's 'he'?"

"He is very kind. Very fondly talked of you. His little darling. But you are much bigger than I have anticipated. I have been waiting, you know. You were bound to venture here. I could see it. Now. What is wrong, little Alfred?"

"N-No, I..." His voice trails off. "I'm not quite sure but... Why do I feel like I can tell you these things?"

"You are the first to ask. I am not quite sure myself. Perhaps because, I, too, know the sadness of true love. Doomed to walk these halls, waiting for a day that shall never come, and yet still hoping. I ask to know your pain, and yet I already know your answer. But it is best you tell me for yourself."

"Well... Does Arthur ever come here?"

"You mean England?"

"You know?"

"I have already told you, I know all the names of every star-crossed lover. Even the most secret ones. He did not try to hide it. Arthur has long forgotten this place, long have I been abandoned. He last came hundreds of years ago. Never to come again, he told me. He did not need me any longer. You had left. What was there left for him to love?" Alfred stares at her. The girl wears a sad smile on her face. The rain seems to pound harder, thunder rumbling across the sky. The storm reflects his mood.

"What do you mean? Arthur told you about me?"

"Yes, he did. Every day, wind or rain, he would wander here, eager to tell about his little Alfred and how big he was getting. He loved you very much. His face would light up with the most earnest, happy smile. He would glow. And I eagerly awaited for your arrival here, so you can I could meet. And yet the circumstances are not joyful as I had hoped."

"...You sound a lot older than you look." She laugh bitterly.

"Has anyone ever taught you manners? Never ask a girl about age. I am from the year 1517. I was 23 when I perished from a broken heart. And I have waited ever since, bound to this house. Trapped in my own grief. You have your own problems with love, as does Arthur. As do I.'

"I'm sorry." That's all Alfred could think to say. Again, the girl laughs, this time a bit more gentle.

"It is not your fault. Although you look like him. He too had soft golden hair and blue eyes, they shone as bright as the sky. He could never be tied down." She gives a wistful sigh, before turning back to Alfred, a smile on her face. "Shall you tell me now?" Heaving a heavy sigh, and slumping against the wall, Alfred begins his story.

"Two hundred and thirty one years. That's how many years it's been since I claimed independence. And it's been 239 years since I decided just why I, Alfred F Jones, would fight. As America, I fought against the unfair treatment of my people. But as Alfred… as Alfred, I fought to prove something more. I fought to prove to Arthur that I've grown up. That I'm not a child anymore. Not his brother. That's Arthur's problem. He still sees me as a child, and compared to some of the nations, like Francis and Antonio, I guess I am. But I didn't want to be Arthur's little brother. I didn't love him as a brother. I loved him as more. Much more."

"Have you ever thought to tell him this? Does he know?"

"...I'm not sure. I thought it was implied, so… No I've never said it in words. But I was so happy… So happy when he agreed to be my partner. I couldn't stop smiling. I thought he'd finally stopped hating me for the war. I thought he must've realized."

"What if he has not?"

"Then I have to tell him. I can't imagine being without him, I just… Love him so much. All these years I've been hoping, praying, he'd forgive me. I never meant to hurt him. But it seems all we do is fight. I don't like it. He gets angry, and I snap back, and the next thing we know, we're knee-deep in yet another pointless argument. And I want to not fight, I want to stop fighting, but it just gets so heated, that I forget half of what I'm, saying, and I… And I hurt him." The look on Arthur's face at the last name Arthur had called him tore Alfred's heart in two. He had looked so sad, like Al had just slapped him across the face. He feels a soft, cold hand on his shoulder and he looks up at the girl, who's now kneeling over him.

"I understand, Alfred. You must apologize. So please, do not cry." Alfred, surprised, lifts his hand to his cheek. It comes away wet.

"Huh… I didn't even realize." The tears are flowing freely now. "S-Sorry, I must look really stupid right now, b-but… for some reason I can't stop." He chokes back sobs, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to stop the flow of tears and failing. "I just… I don't wanna make him sad! I love him too much for that! How could I've done that? What did I even call him?!" His voice is rising. "I just can't control my temper sometimes! I can't help it! I didn't want to hurt him." He repeats. "I d-didn't want to hurt him…" The girl's arms wrap around him now, surprisingly cold.

"It is alright, Alfred… You may cry, it is alright. You are angry at yourself. And I am sure Arthur regrets what he said as well. Alfred," the girl pulls away and stares him in the eyes. "Listen to me. A country's lifespan is far far longer any normal human's. You receive hundreds possibly thousands of years on this earth, forming very close bonds and friendships. You and Arthur have loved each other for hundreds of years. And you have both been given time. You both have an eternity together. An eternity that can be used however you wish. Tell him you feel. Tell him you love him. Tell him you are sorry. Use that eternity. I did not receive time. You have. Use it." And with that, the girl vanishes. Alfred's eyes widen. So... She was a ghost. An involuntary shiver runs down his spine. As he looks around, he realizes the house now looks much older. No wallpaper is left, the furniture has been half-eaten by termites and there are moldy holes littering the floor and walls. He also notices that the rain has stopped. Wandering outside, he puts a hand to his eyes when the bright sunlight beams through the trees.

"Sunset..." He whispers. "Has it been that long? I should get back." He turns to look back at the house but stops, doing a double-take. "No way..." The house has vanished, only trees where it had previously been a moment ago. "How is that possible?" He considers going to look for the house, but stops when he hears a faint voice whisper in his ear.

"Go to him, Alfred. He is waiting." He looks up at where the voice came from, seeing a faint shadow above him, a soft smile on a beautiful face, before it disappears completely.

"Yeah... Yeah I will! Thank you!" He adds, as he starts to make his way through the trees. He hurries through them, eager to see Arthur. He's only gone a little ways, however, when he hears voices.

"America-san!"

"America!"

"Al! Where are you, bro?"

" Alfred!" That voice. Angry, with a hint of concern. British accent.

"Arthur!" He exclaims and takes off running. After a few more paces, he bursts through the tree line, head whipping wildly. He barely notices the startled expressions of Kiku, Franics and Matthew, eyes immediately landing on Arthur's brilliant emerald gems. Arthur meets his gaze, surprise on his face, then anger, and finally relief as he races towards the exhausted American, barreling into him. "Oof!" The force of the British man's weight knocks him off balance, and they both almost go toppling to the ground. "A-Arthur?"

"You stupid git!" The Brit curses at him, tears threatening to spill over his lids. "Where the hell were you?!"

"Eh? What do you mean? I've only been gone a few hours!"

"What do you mean by that?!" Arthur practically shrieks at him as the others run over towards them.

"You've been gone for 6 days, America-san." Kiku responds. Alfred's face pales.

"W-what?"

"You mean you honestly don't know?" Matthew asks.

"I-I coulda sworn I was only there for a few hours."

"Where is zis 'there' place? There is no building in Angleterre's woods for miles until you reach ze town."

"What about that mansion?"

"What mansion?"

"The old run-down one! With the girl!"

"What are you talking about?" Alfred's eyes widen.

"So you really did forget... N-Nothing!" He says a little louder. "I-I must've been imagining things. Sorry to worry you guys. I… lost track of time."

"...That's your excuse?" Arthur mutters, before quickly getting louder. "You disappear without a trace for 6 days, 6 days, and your excuse is you lost track of time. I've told you so many times, these woods are dangerous! I thought you were hurt! I thought you were lost and scared and, and-"

"Well it's not like I'd die. For one thing, I'm the Hero. Second, I'm a nation. And third…" the rest of his words are mumbled under his breath, as his cheeks turn red.

"Third what?" Arthur asks. Kiku, Francis and Matthew take this chance to leave. Well Matthew does. Francis and Kiku go to find a better view.

"..."

"Alfred!"

"God, fine! I said I can't possibly die because then I'd miss you too much because I love you!" The red American gets even brighter as Arthur's face flushes as well. He opens his mouth as though he wants to say something, then shuts it. The tears that have been threatening to spill out of Arthur's eyes do now, and he starts to cry. "H-hey, don't cry! I'm sorry dude! It was really cheesy, yeah, but I didn't mean to-" Arthur cuts him off with a slight shake of his head.

"No," he replies in a shaky voice. "No it's not that. It's just… It's the first time you said you loved me." A smile appears on Arthur's face. "I'm crying because I'm happy. I'm so happy." Alfred lets out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

"Good… I'm glad you're happy. Arthur, I'm s-sorry. I shouldn't have said what I did. I love you so much that I don't know what to do about it. I always, always have. I w-wanted to be your equal." They're both crying now. "I wanted to be more than your brother. I wanted you to stop seeing me like that. I wanted to be with you!" Arthur lets out a small squeak, before embracing Alfred in a warm hug. Alfred hugs back, the two clinging to each other as though the might never see each other again. Finally, Alfred draws his head back from off of Arthur's shoulder and looks at him, intense blue pools meeting Arthur's deep green jewels. "Arthur Kirkland, I love you!"

"Me too." He says, laughing. "I love you too." And they kiss. A long, deep, heartfelt one, full of love. And from some place far in the trees, Alfred can hear a joyful voice.

Congratulations.

VA TE FAIRE ENCULER PAR UN OURSE!: It means 'Get fucked by a bear' ...yeah.

petite Angleterre va se souillés par ce plouc américain sale: 'little England will get contaminated by the filthy American swine' or something like that.

Yeah I was kinda reaching for the insult at the top... I couldn't think of one that Al wouldn't know unless it was in another language! And it needed impact! So... Yup. Well, I hope you enjoyed the story! Soory the OC was kinda weird, but she was supposed to be. Please review!

SHINE BRIGHT LIKE A DOITSU